Incidental Son
by Quinn Kirkpatrick
Summary: James Potter would do absolutely anything to make Lily happy. Absolutely anything turns out to be an absolutely everything that Severus Snape is left to deal with. The boy was his incidental son, and while that wasn't supposed to mean much of anything, it turns out to mean more than any master ever could.
1. Prologue

**Hi there. First time posting a story like this, but I hope you all enjoy it. **

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

"You're barking mad."

"Now Moony," James Potter pleaded. "I realize this is one of my more outlandish ideas, but…"

"Outlandish?" Remus Lupin shouted. "It's suicidal! If Lily found out…"

"She won't," the other man said firmly. "And I'm doing this. I just need a little help with working out who to ask."

"Well I sure as hell won't do it," the young werewolf replied.

James sighed. "I know. You wouldn't risk it with the lycanthropy. Pads is just as sterile as I am, and Wormtail couldn't be paid enough to go near any woman, much less his best friend's wife. Not that I have issue with his liking blokes or anything, but it's bloody inconvenient right now."

Sterile. It was a common enough thing among older, Pureblood lines, but much like Lily had, James had assumed he was fine when they'd started trying for a baby six months ago. He'd considered the notion of adopting a child, but he knew Lily really wanted the experience of giving birth, and above all else, James wanted Lily to be happy. He'd once heard that muggles had methods of implanting sperm in a woman from a donor so she could conceive, but with Lily being Muggleborn, James wasn't willing to risk the baby being a Squib if the donor wasn't a Wizard. No, it absolutely had to be a wizard.

"It would have to be someone you could trust to keep a secret from Lily. And someone who doesn't need or want their own heir," Remus finally let out with a heavy sigh. "Mind you, just because I'm agreeing to help you brainstorm does not mean I approve of this in the slightest."

"But you won't…"

"Tell Lily? Hell no. Even the wolf is scared of your witch," he finished. "I like living, thank you very bloody much."

"So someone who doesn't want an heir, or need one, and someone who can keep things from Lily," James prompted. "What else?"

"Probably best to pick a half-blood. Purebloods may come back and claim an heir for the Potter money, if you end up kicking the bucket before your kid comes of age," Remus added.

"How morbid."

"We're at war, Prongs," Remus replied. "I'm just considering the possibilities. If you can't do something smart - which obviously you can't - then at least be smart about being dumb. Consider the long term, and consider the worst case."

"Okay, okay, you made your point," James agreed. "What else?"

"Ideally someone who shares at least some of your features," Remus added to the list. "Dark hair, in particular. Lily's a ginger of course, but that's a recessive gene. The kid is most likely to come out with the father's hair color, unless he's also a ginger. What about one of the Prewitt twins?"

"Purebloods," James pointed out. "Also their sister scares me as much as Lily scares you and I shudder to think about what would happen if she ever found out."

"Molly's a bit of a wild one, yeah," the werewolf chuckled. "Anyway, so a dark haired guy then."

Suddenly, James got an idea. It was a horrible, terrible idea and made him want to puke, but the bloke in question fit Remus' criteria perfectly, and more to the point, he'd do anything for Lily, including give her the child she so desperately wanted. "Blimey," he whispered, hardly believing he was even considering this. "Moony… what about Snape?"

Remus paled. "That's a terrible idea James."

"But it's perfect. He fits the criteria."

"And he'd do anything for Lils," Remus groaned. "Damnit James, are you sure I can't talk you out of this idea altogether?"

"Not a chance," James said, suddenly more sure of the idea than he'd been in the first place. Despite how much he hated Severus Snape, and however much his school nemesis hated him, this felt… _right_. "Can I trust you to keep this to yourself?"

"Of course," came the easy reply. "Want to stay the night at mine… when it happens?"

"If you stock up Firewhiskey," the Potter heir agreed. "I have a feeling that's the only way I'm going to get through the night."

"Consider it done, Prongs."

* * *

Severus Snape could not possibly be more surprised than when he opened his door upon hearing a knock to find James Potter standing there. "Potter?" he asked warily, as if he was expecting the man in front of him to deny his apparent identity.

"I need your help," Potter replied.

Scratch that. He _could_ be more surprised. Still, any dealings with James Potter absolutely needed to be treated with caution. Or disregard. "Potter, I'm the last person on earth likely to help you."

"It's about Lily," Potter pleaded as Severus moved to close the door in his face. "Please, Snape, hear me out."

Severus paused, briefly closing his eyes and thinking of the beautiful redhead. Rather than continue to shut the door in his former bully's face, he opened it wider and stepped aside, nodding for Potter to enter. "Is she alright?" he asked warily.

"She's well," Potter assured as the door closed behind them.

He didn't say anything else until Severus had pointed to a pair of wingback chairs in suggestion they sit. "Then what is it you require my help with?" he prompted when Potter made no move to start the conversation on his own.

"Lily...she wants a baby. Badly." Potter began.

"And? I'm fairly certain, disgusting as it is to consider, you are familiar with the mechanics involved in impregnating a woman."

Potter ignored the barb, and met his former schoolmate's gaze. "Snape...Severus...I'm sterile."

Severus' eyes widened, very quickly realizing what _help_ Potter was about to ask of him. Potions Master he may be, but there was no potion to correct sterility. It was a common enough problem among Purebloods, and according to Regulus Black, his own brother's disownment had been an easy decision for his parents because his behavior aside, he too was unable to father a child. There would be no further Blacks out of those idiot loins, thank Merlin.

"You know what I'm asking, don't you?" Potter continued after a moment of stunned silence from his companion.

"You want me to impregnate your wife," Severus concluded. "You cannot, Black cannot, Lupin will not given his… _condition_. What of Pettigrew?"

"Likes blokes," Potter shrugged. "I didn't even ask him. Remus is the only one who knows anything about this."

"Not Lily?" Severus asked. "Are you implying that you want me to not only impregnate your wife, but do so without her knowledge or consent?"

"I was thinking of Polyjuice," Potter replied. "She'd never know. I don't want her to know. If I tell her I'm sterile, she'd want to go to the muggles and do that artificial insemination thing…"

"...which would likely mean her child would be born non-magical," Severus concluded, agreeing with the unspoken assessment of Lily's character. "And you require an heir. Have you considered adopting a magical child? Lily would love a parentless child as her own, I'm sure."

"She wants to have the experience. I know that if I tell her, and I can talk her out of the muggle way, she'd agree to adopting," Potter sighed, "but actually having a baby, physically doing the damned thing, is what she really wants, and what Lily wants that is within my power to give, she gets."

"Obviously it's not within your power to give this to her," Severus snarked.

Potter frowned. "It's not in my power to give her a child, directly. It is in my power to set aside my pride to give her a pregnancy. A baby of her own, to birth, and feed, and watch grow up from the beginning. So here I am, pride completely aside, doing what it takes to give her what she wants. Will you do it?"

Severus considered. Merlin knew he would never deny that he loved Lily. It actually gave him a bit of a thrill to consider that while Lily had chosen Potter, Potter had not been able to give her this thing she so very much wanted, and he certainly could. The question was one of _should_. "How do I know that you'd treat this child well, Potter? If you know the child would be _my child_, the product of a deception, will you be able to treat it as if it were your own, or would he or she grow up under your bullying ways?"

Potter looked shamed. "I should have apologized for treating you that way before we left school, but better late than never, I guess. Severus, I am sincerely sorry I was such a prat to you. I offer no excuse. I was a big idiot back then."

"What changed?"

"My parents were killed," the other man said. "All my life, I just kind of assumed that if my behavior was poor, my mum or dad would tell me so, and if they weren't there to tell me, I could do whatever I pleased. I let them be my conscience, and after they were gone, and I had to decide right and wrong on my own… let's just say that it was a big slap in the face, to realize how ashamed they'd have been if they knew how I'd behaved at school."

Severus accepted the reasoning for the change, but noted Potter had still not answered the question. "So how would you treat the child, now that you have a mind of your own?"

"With all the love I could muster," Potter replied. "I know you've only my word at that and Merlin knows you've got every reason to doubt my word, but honestly Snape, do you think Lily would let me get away with treating her child any other way?"

Severus chuckled at that. "Point made."

"Do you need time to think it over?" Potter asked after another few minutes of silence.

Severus shook his head. Despite all the reasons this was decidedly unwise, and his own maliciousness wanting to reject Potter's apologies and request all in one go, at the end of the day Potter had played his hand well - he'd known when he arrived that the hatred between the two of them wouldn't stand up against their mutual love for Lily. "I'll do it, under one condition."

"Name it."

"No one can ever know. Not Lily, not your precious Dumbledore. Not your friends. Most importantly, not the child," he said succinctly.

"Remus already knows I'm asking you," Potter reminded him.

"Lupin, I believe, can be trusted to keep that information to himself," Severus mused, thinking that for however much he disliked the werewolf, the sandy-haired man could be trusted to keep a secret that, if brought to light, would cause much pain to those he cared most for. The wolf's sense of loyalty would extend even beyond a discontinued friendship with Potter, if it ever came to that. "But from you, I require an oath on your magic to never tell another soul."

"Done," the other man agreed with finality.

And just like that, Severus Snape agreed to become a father.

* * *

**Feedback is very much appreciated. **

**Regards, Quinn Kirkpatrick**


	2. Chapter One

**More to come as soon as I can. You can look forward to breezing through First and Second Years fairly quickly.**

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**Chapter One**

* * *

Harry Potter, of Number Four Privet Drive, was perfectly happy to be on his own, thank you very much. Sitting on the creaking merry-go-round at the park near his home was a blissful escape from his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and cousin Dudley. The Dursleys had taken him in when his parents had died, and while he knew he ought to be grateful for the roof over his head and all that, he would have liked it if his parents had left him in the care of people who fed him more than scraps and gave him clothes that fit. His shirts were usually so big they might as well have been dresses, and his trousers swam on his thin frame so he had to tie them on his hips with twine. He didn't think Dudley had ever needed a belt in his life, and everything Harry had was a hand-me-down from Dudley.

Come to think of it, Harry thought, rubbing his sore shoulder gently, he would have liked to be sent to someone who didn't knock him about so much. Of course, he did have a roof over his head, and he was grateful for that much. His Aunt and Uncle might have just left him to be a street urchin, and often reminded him of this. Out there, Harry would still be knocked about by the bigger boys in similar situations, still only eat scraps, but then he'd have no shelter at night. On the other hand, the boy mused, he also wouldn't have to spend every day cooking and cleaning and working in the yard, leaving hardly any time to do his schoolwork. Granted, if he was a street urchin, he'd likely not be allowed in school, and he enjoyed school.

Things were looking up for Harry, however. Only the other day, he'd learned from a great big man that he was a _wizard_, and that his parents hadn't been drunks after all like his Aunt had told him, but that they'd been a wizard and a witch. Wizards and witches, it turned out, went to a special school called Hogwarts, where he would be going in a short few days from now. Instead of coming back to Privet Drive every day after lessons, from now on he'd live at Hogwarts, except during holidays and summer. Hagrid had mentioned something about maybe being able to stay at Hogwarts on some of the holidays. The large man hadn't seemed too keen on the Dursleys, and Harry didn't blame him.

Getting the letter on his eleventh birthday telling him about being a wizard had been life-changing for Harry. He'd used to be afraid when strange things would happen if he was really angry or trying to get away from Dudley and his gang, but now he knew those strange happenings were magic. They were proof that he, Harry Potter, was a wizard. Hagrid had taken him to a place called Diagon Alley to get the things he'd need for school on September first, and since then Harry had been trying to make things happen when he was alone. He wasn't allowed to use the wand he'd purchased from a very old man called Ollivander, at least not until he went to Hogwarts, but Hagrid hadn't said anything about doing magic without a wand. He could, even if it was only small things.

Concentrating hard, the dark haired boy pushed his glasses up his nose and pointed at the swings, willing them to start swinging. The late August air was sweltering and he'd not felt a breeze in days, but he imagined if someone came along and saw him, they'd just assume a breeze had caught the rubber seats. Muggles, Hagrid had told him - _non-magical folks that was_ \- would justify small showings of magical ability they saw to the moon and back before they'd believe it was really some kind of sorcery.

Harry had just gotten one of the swings to begin moving back and forth when a crunch behind him alerted the eleven year old of someone's approach. He quickly turned to face whoever was there, and was startled and decidedly relieved to see that it was not Dudley and the rest. It was a man he'd never seen before; tall with dark hair like his own, wearing black trousers and a black overcoat that seemed so very out of place given the end of summer heat. His dark eyes looked sad, Harry thought.

"Don't stop," the man whispered, glancing back at the swings.

Harry's jaw went slack in understanding. "You're a wizard, too."

* * *

He knew he shouldn't. Oh, Merlin knew Severus Snape knew that he shouldn't detour on his way back to Hogwarts to get a peek at the Potter boy before he arrived at school in a few days, but he couldn't resist the temptation. Biologically speaking, the boy was his _son_, and they had only met once, the night his mother died. Almost twelve years ago now James Potter had approached him about becoming a surrogate to allow Lily to have a child, and he'd agreed. The condition of that had been laid out plainly, and for nearly two years after the fact, Severus hadn't regretted his decision to not demand some part of his child's life. Having a Death Eater for a father was nothing a child could benefit from, and even before he'd turned away from Voldemort, Severus had known that.

On the fateful night that Lily and her husband had died, and the Dark Lord had vanished, for a split second Severus considered speaking up and taking over where Lily had left off in raising their son. Potter, he thought, might have rolled over in his grave had the boy been truly his spawn, but knowing the truth, Potter might have approved. Lily, he assumed, would have given her husband an earful and then some in the afterlife, but that wouldn't have been his problem. All of that said, Albus had determined that Harry would be best off in a family environment with his blood kin, and away from the fame the Boy-Who-Lived would be sure to have.

It had nearly torn Severus asunder when he'd heard the prophecy, reported it to his then-Master, and realized he'd painted a target on his own child's back. Broken as he'd been at Lily's demise, he'd taken some solace in the knowledge that the boy had survived. When he'd arrived in Godric's Hollow that fateful night, he'd felt a pang of grief when he'd seen Potter laying there dead, and an explosion of the same feeling upon finding Lily's body. He'd sobbed into her hair for a little while, before he'd noticed the oddly quiet Harry. The babe, it seemed, had already cried himself dry.

As he'd picked his son up and cradled him close, he'd thought about taking him then and there, and just leaving the whole damn wizarding world behind. However, it didn't take him long to realize that the mark on his arm would make claiming Harry a decidedly unpleasant event, and more to the point, he realized that he had very little to offer a baby. He had no idea how to be a father. Surely, even the ill-tempered Petunia would do a better job with the boy than he could. He imagined that, like Potter had reported regarding Lily when he'd written Severus to announce the birth of a healthy boy, motherhood had tempered Petunia. She had a husband, and a child of her own that could be a sibling to Harry as he grew up. The boy would have everything a boy should have, if not more. Likely, Petunia would overcompensate for his orphaned status and spoil the child rotten.

He'd arrived on Privet Drive two hours ago, just in time to see a boy with dark hair so like his own walking out of number four, quickly making his way toward a nearby park with a sack in hand. He'd followed his son quietly, not intending to even introduce himself to his future student - he'd thought there to be absolutely no point in telling Harry the truth of his parentage - intent on observing. Sentimentally as hell, Severus had only meant to see that his son was happy, before he was at the school and likely sorted to Gryffindor like Lily had been, where he'd be fawned over, basking in his fame, and Severus would have to pretend to hate the child who had been the Dark Lord's downfall.

En route to the park, the boy stopped at a creek side, and after looking around to make sure nobody was watching him, he'd stripped off his oversized shirt and oversized trousers, and waded into the shallow water. Creeping a bit closer, Severus had to suppress a gasp of horror as he saw bruises littering the boy's pale skin, and a bony frame that Severus knew first hand could only be the result of months, if not years, of lacking enough to eat. He watched carefully as Harry pulled a block of soap out of the sack, and began to meticulously bathe himself in the water. He then dunked his clothes in the water and began scrubbing them as well. In another ten minutes, the boy tossed the wet clothing on a decently clean rock, and came out of the creek. He moved back to the sack and pulled out dry clothes - still oversized as hell and showing much wear - and dressed in those. He then retrieved the wet ones and wrung them out best he could, put them in the sack and slung it back over his shoulder and continued on his way.

Arriving at the park, Harry pulled the wet clothing out of the sack and laid them on the merry-go-round bars to dry in the August sun, sat on the edge of the ring, apparently content to just wait for the sun to shine on his scrawny form. In abhorrent fascination, Severus watched this obviously neglected boy quietly, trying to force out of his mind the echoing reminder that the boy was _his son_. A child raised in an abusive home himself, Severus felt a deep sympathy, and the small part of himself who could see himself as a father was wracked with guilt.

But it didn't matter. It _couldn't _matter. Harry Potter had a role to play and son-to-a-Death-Eater was not it. In the years since Lily's death, Severus had come to realize exactly what sort of man he'd sold himself to. Albus Dumbledore, while not a bad man, was a man who liked to get his way, and reacted quite poorly to his plans going awry. Coming forward now and claiming Harry would certainly be considered an unwelcome monkey wrench according to the Headmaster, and one that neither of them could afford. Albus knew, and Severus knew as well, that one day the Dark Lord would return and come, wand at the ready, looking for Harry. It was their job to protect the boy, and to best protect him Severus needed to be prepared to take back on the spy mantle, which was decidedly non-conducive to raising a child.

He watched as Harry began trying to move the nearby swings with his magic - wandlessly - and was more than a little impressed when the boy managed to get a reaction. His pride, of course, was his downfall, as when he leaned forward to get a better look, he stepped on a twig and the snapping sound alerted Harry to his presence. Quickly, the boy ceased using magic and turned around to face him, and the fear on his face utterly broke Severus' heart. "Don't stop," he whispered, echoing the words his mother had once said to him when he'd been young and scared to death that his father would beat him for using his magic.

"You're a wizard, too," Harry concluded in surprise after a moment.

He nodded, having no clue what to say.

"You won't tell anyone, right?" Harry pleaded suddenly, fear overshadowing the look of wonder that had been there moments before. "Please sir, I haven't even started at Hogwarts! I don't want them to change their minds about having me…"

"I won't tell," he the boy he wouldn't get in trouble for wandless magic before he'd started at Hogwarts was a pointless endeavor. All he could do was try to minimize the fear.

Harry looked at him curiously. "Did you go to Hogwarts when you were my age?"

"I did," Severus admitted, seeing no reason not to.

"Did you go with my parents?" Harry asked. "James and Lily Potter. Well, I guess she would have been Lily Evans, then."

The impulse to correct Harry on the identity of his father was held back by biting his tongue quite firmly. He _couldn't_ tell the boy the truth. "I did," he admitted, "but we weren't friends."

That last part had been a lie, point blank. After Potter Senior had sent that letter announcing Harry's birth, Severus had privately - not that he'd ever admit it out loud - decided that he considered James Potter to be a friend, and Merlin knew he and Lily had been connected at the hip until that fateful day their fifth year. The lie, of course, had been necessary. He couldn't be the one to tell this child tales of his parents. Leave that rot to Minerva or, if he could be dragged out of the woodwork one day, perhaps Lupin. Certainly Lupin would have endless tales to tell. "I would suggest asking some of the Professors at Hogwarts about your parents. Many of them were teaching when your parents were at school," he offered Harry, hoping to dissuade the boy from asking more questions about him.

It didn't work.

"What House were you in?" Harry wanted to know. "Hagrid was telling me about the Houses. He said my mum and dad were in Gryffindor."

"Slytherin," he replied, seeing no harm in answering truthfully. Harry would find out that much on his own in a few days.

"Is it okay to be friends with people who aren't in your House?" Harry continued, "or is that why you weren't friends with my parents?"

Severus shook his head. "There are no rules about that, so far as I know, but generally speaking most people form their closest friendships with those in their own House. You ask a lot of questions, Mister Potter."

"Harry," the boy offered in correction, realizing he'd not said his name. "What's your name?"

The Potions Master sighed. "Is this your final question?"

"Suppose it can be," Harry shrugged. "Sorry, I'm just excited."

"Severus Snape," he said after a pause, offering his hand. Harry took it, grinning.

"Nice to meet you, Mister Snape," the boy greeted. "Maybe I'll see you again sometime."

Severus smirked. "Perhaps," he gave, before letting go of the tiny hand, stepping back, and disapparating on the spot.

* * *

Arriving at Hogwarts was eventful, from Harry's perspective. On the train, he'd made a friend called Ron Weasley, who had a bunch of brothers and one sister and seemed to understand what it was to go without, to at least a certain extent, which Harry appreciated. While his trip to the Wizarding Bank with Hagrid had opened his eyes to his own family's wealth, until that day he'd lived like he was poor - even if Dudley had not - and so he found Ron's company to be far more relatable than the company of the blond boy he'd met in Diagon Alley, who had made it plain from the off that he came from money.

Draco Malfoy was a prat.

Professor McGonagall seemed nice enough, and Harry agreeably followed her and his fellow first years into the Great Hall of Hogwarts castle for the Sorting Ceremony. Harry, while waiting his turn, looked around at the older students, and eventually to the table at the head of the hall where all the Professors sat. To his surprise, the man he'd met the other day, Mister Snape, was there. Still in black, Harry noted with a smirk. He considered waving but he didn't know if that might get Mister Snape, or rather _Professor_ Snape, it seemed, in trouble, so he refrained.

"Draco Malfoy!" McGonagall called.

The Sorting Hat had hardly touched the blond's head when it declared Slytherin, which made Harry frown a bit. From what was being said among his fellow first years, the Sorting Hat decided your house, though supposedly it would consider your own feelings on the matter as well. Harry had thought about being in Slytherin, like Snape, but it was less appealing after he'd heard Ron speak poorly of the House and now that Malfoy had been sent there. He couldn't imagine sharing a dorm with Malfoy, although as he'd be sorted before Ron, he could hardly request wherever his new friend ended up going.

That said, Ron related that all his family went to Gryffindor, and Harry's parents had been in Gryffindor as well, according to Hagrid, so he supposed that might not be a bad place to be. Still, when his turn came he wasn't surprised to find the Hat toying between Gryffindor and Slytherin for his placement.

"Your name and your blood can't seem to agree," the Hat said cryptically. "Your friends you can choose, your family you can't, so better be GRYFFINDOR until you seek the past!"

The only part of what the Hat said that the people in the hall heard was the shouted bit, sending him to Gryffindor House, though he considered the rest thoughtfully. What did that all mean? His questions were put aside a few minutes later, when Ron was also ushered to Gryffindor, and Harry excitedly scooted to make room for his new friend. A few minutes after that, the feast began, and the questions in the young wizard's mind were set aside in light of an evening of getting settled into his new home.

* * *

Severus Snape was trying his damnedest. For all the years he'd been teaching, he'd never once failed to terrify a first year into submission, and yet, now it was happening. Of course, he'd never taught his own son before, not that Harry knew about that. Despite all his effort to make clear to the child he'd met in the park that day that he was _not_ a nice man, nor was he interested in any sort of pleasant exchanges, Harry seemed oblivious. The boy was insistent on seeing him through a sort of rose colored glasses which only remembered the initial, cordial exchange they'd shared, and quickly forgot the numerous insults since.

"Detention, Potter!" he announced when the boy had called him on a nasty remark regarding the Weasley boy's large family. "Your fame does not mean yours is the only valid opinion."

Harry shrugged, seeming unconcerned at the idea of having a detention only a week into term. With a wince, Severus realized that the boy probably thought that his Professor could do no more to him than his Aunt and Uncle had already done. Severus still wondered exactly how bad the abuse was in the Dursley home. Actually, by the gleam in the boy's eye, the Potions Professor was concerned that detention had been Harry's _goal_. Oh, Merlin. Had he just fallen into a trap set by an eleven year old?

That evening, Harry arrived in his office as scheduled, and rather than appearing full of trepidation, which was how any sane student would look walking into his office, the boy closed the door behind him, dropped his bag on the floor, and hands on hips, offered a seething glare. "What are you being such a prat for?" he demanded.

"Watch your tone, Potter," Severus growled.

"Or what?" Harry asked. "You'll give me another detention? I'm not afraid of you!"

"You damn well should be!" he snarled back. "I have half a mind to beat some sense of respect into you, boy!"

"Professors aren't allowed," Harry said stubbornly. "And you're not my father."

Severus stopped short, gut lurching at the accusation, and realizing in a rush that hiding the truth from Harry would serve neither of them. The boy had seen the real him, in the park, and no amount of cruelty now would change his opinion that the mask he wore here at Hogwarts was just that - a mask. He sat down in his chair, and rubbed his temples. "Yes, I am," he admitted quietly.

Harry stopped short, obviously trying to decide if Severus had meant he was allowed to beat him, or that he was his father. Obviously, either notion was horrifying for the boy to consider, as he just stood there gaping for a moment before working up the nerve to ask for clarity. "You are… _what_?"

Severus met the boy's worried gaze. "I'm your father," he whispered.

"The Sorting Hat was right?" the boy asked nervously. "It said my name and blood couldn't agree, and until I looked into the past, I'd have to stick with my name and be Gryffindor. It considered me for Slytherin, first."

"Did it?' Severus asked, not surprised given how easily the boy had corralled him into a trap.

"It took me a while to work it out," Harry said earnestly. "But I figured that if my name was wrong, then maybe my dad wasn't who I thought he was. If I was considered for Slytherin, and families usually go to the same House, then it stood to reason that my _real dad_ was a Slytherin. Then I started thinking about you, and how you came to see me before school started, and I asked myself _why_. The only thing I couldn't work out was that, if you're my father, then why did I live with the Dursleys, and why does everyone think I'm a Potter?"

Severus sighed. The boy was smart, and good at puzzles. Both traits he'd inherited from himself. The bigger question right now was whether or not he also inherited the skill for acting, because before Harry left this room tonight, he'd need to understand that the truth of their relation had to remain a secret. "Do you know what sterility is?"

Harry shook his head.

"Sterility is a medical condition in which reproductive organs have failed in some manner," Severus explained. "If a man or a woman is sterile, they do not have the means to produce a child. In the case of your presumed parents, Lily and James Potter very much wanted a child, but James was physically unable. He was sterile."

"I understand."

"James came to me and asked that I become a surrogate - a person who could take his place in the process of giving his wife, your mother, a child. I agreed."

"Oh."

"Harry, you must understand that had James and your mother lived, you'd never have known any other father. He would have raised you as his own, and legally speaking regardless of the truth of your parentage, you are his legal heir. You are a Potter," Severus continued. "As to the why you were left with the Dursleys… please believe me when I say that nobody had reason to believe you'd be treated poorly there. We all expected Petunia to love you as her own, and that her own child would be a brother to you. I felt that bringing to light the truth of our relation would stand in the way of you growing up in a family environment. I am not married. I have no other children. My life is here at this school. I had very little to offer a child."

Yes, he was glossing over certain parts of the tale, but the boy was eleven for Merlin's sake. For now, the basics would suffice. Eventually, he'd tell Harry the full story, but for now, only what he needed to know.

"Can I stay with you now? Now that you know how the Dursleys treat me?" Harry asked in a soft plea. "Since James is gone and so is mum and you're really my father?"

Severus sighed. "I wish it were that simple. You know the facts surrounding your claim to fame, yes?"

Harry nodded. The boy was far more patient than Severus could have expected, but having grown up in a similar environment, he understood the patience borne under torment. He was grateful for at least that aspect of things. Granted, had Petunia simply treated the boy properly, they'd not be having this conversation at all.

"The Dark Lord went missing the night that James and Lily died," he went on. "That does not necessarily mean he's gone for good. During the war, I acted as a conveyor of information to those who opposed the Dark Lord, and that is a role I must be prepared to resume should he ever return. Claiming you would put both of us in incredible danger, should that happen."

"You were a spy?" Harry asked excitedly. "Dudley used to watch shows about spies on the telly!"

"Being a spy is not nearly as glamorous as muggle television makes it out to be," Severus said somberly.

"So it has to stay a secret then," the boy concluded. "I can't tell anyone. Does anyone know, other than you?"

"One man, a friend of James and Lily's, knew what James was planning," Severus said. "Though I've not seen him in a number of years and I'm not even sure where he's at now. I'm sorry you won't have someone to confide in. Perhaps, when you're older, a trusted friend may be told, but for now…"

"It's not hard to keep secrets," Harry said agreeably. "I understand that. Do you have to act like you hate me though?"

"If I don't, others will suspect."

"Will I be able to get to know you, at least? Can we have a public relationship, and a private one too?" Harry begged.

His eyes were wide and even though Severus knew that it would be wiser to keep Harry at a distance in totality, he couldn't deny the boy this request. "Give me a bit of time to work out how to do so safely. Nobody can know, Harry. _Nobody_. Especially not the Headmaster. He has eyes everywhere so I will need to find a way to blind him a bit before we can do much of anything."

"In the meantime, since you've got to act like you hate me, and it would be reasonable enough for me to act like I hate you right back," Harry said thoughtfully, "when I act out in class you can always give me detentions. That would give us some time together."

"You mean presuming you won't actually be serving detention for disrupting my classroom?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We can do both," Harry replied. "I don't mind cleaning or doing lines or whatever. I can work and talk at the same time."

"Your mum was good at multitasking as well," Severus mused. "Perhaps the Hat was right to place you in Gryffindor, though clearly you have at least some Slytherin tendencies. Am I correct in assuming you made a scene in class this afternoon purposely to get a detention with me?"

Harry blushed. "How else was I going to excuse going to your office since you're not my Head of House?"

"Do badly in Potions," Severus advised. "It's early enough in the year that no one would suspect if you pretend you're struggling with the material, and that will put me in the position to offer you tutoring."

"That would be more fun than detentions," Harry smiled. "Okay, I'll pretend not to do well in Potions. Granger will like that. She seems keen on being top of the class."

"Miss Granger does seem to be a zealous student," Severus agreed. "Those types often make very loyal friends, Harry. Try to see past her prudence in the classroom."

"I will… Dad," Harry offered, smiling a bit.

_Dad._ Severus felt warm at the addressment. He'd always felt that being a father would be a burden and a challenge unworthy of undertaking, but to be a _dad_… well, evidently that was a different story.

* * *

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**Regards, Quinn Kirkpatrick**


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